


Only 19? But My Mind Is Older - ON HIATUS

by ArcherAuthor



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Age Regression, M/M, This is crack and I'm sorry, alex made someone angry and everyone is paying for it, curse, physical age regression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 09:27:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8367079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcherAuthor/pseuds/ArcherAuthor
Summary: The fact that this was happening was terrible in of itself, the fact that anyone was witnessing it made it ten times worse.
Washington moved to rest Hamilton in his lap, one hand resting on his brown locks, "How you get yourself into these situations, I'll never know, Hamilton. I'll never know."





	1. Chapter 1

Alexander wasn't sure what was happening at first, all he knew was that his head was pounding harder than he ever even imagined it could. His eyes are closed and he didn't really feel like opening them. He couldn't remember why his head hurt, or for that matter why he felt so sore, but he surely did feel that way. 

He tried to move a hand up to rub at his head, but found himself unable to. In response to that he scrunched up his nose in confusion and frustration. He decided to sit up, he'd probably passed out in bed and gotten tangled up in the sheets—but he couldn't sit up either.

"Shh, shh, I think he's awake." he heard a disembodied voice. It sounded familiar, but he couldn't place it. Finally he tried to open his eyes, but the room was too bright so instead he squinted for a moment before being able to actually see correctly and what he did end up seeing wasn't exactly what he'd hoped for.

He was laying on his back and he was all too aware of the feeling a blanket dawdling him. The ceiling looked to be the of the commander and chief's office, which would make sense as to why the commander and chief himself was staring straight down at him. That didn't explain why the man looked all too big for reality or why it appeared he was being held.

Words began bubbling up and tried to make sense of them before speaking but he was almost too shocked of the noise he made to continue. It was a string of almost babbling like sounds. He could identify maybe one or two actual words in the entire thing. What was happening? He tried to squirm, tried to push away from Washington, none of this made sense. He felt like he was going to cry. No! He would not cry! Why did he want to cry?

"Shh, hey there little guy, it's okay. Can you take a deep breath for me?" he heard Washington say, but he couldn't see him because he'd turned himself away and was now facing the opposing wall, and what he saw made everything worse.

There in the chairs were Thomas Jefferson, James Madison and of course Aaron Burr. What was going on? Why were they here? It was one thing that Washington was holding him, but they were here seeing this? Now he really did feel like crying.

"Do you even think he knows what's going on? He wasn't the brightest beforehand, I'd doubt he's comprehending anything right now," Thomas said, a slightly malicious smirk chasing his words.

"I don't know, I'd ask him, but he won't calm down." Washington said in response, turn Alex back around again. "Look, you need to calm down, if you start crying everyone is going to hear. Can you even understand me, Hamilton?"

He nodded, because honestly, that's all he trusted himself to do. His words had failed him once. Maybe he was drugged, or maybe this was all some horrible nightmare. He wouldn't be surprised if that was it.

He heard a small cheer from over in the direction he could no longer see, "So he does understand us. That means he remembers everything, right?"

"Son," hearing that when he already felt unearthly small felt weird and he wanted to scream, "Do you know why you're like this?"

Alexander wasn't even sure what he was like, how was he supposed to answer that kind of a question. Apparently his expression said it all because Washington quickly held him upright.

"You're, well uh, a baby." there was a long awkward silent pause where Alex's eyes had widened and he stared in confusion. "We don't know why. James said one minute you are debating with Thomas and then you were on the floor convulsing and then you were just about eight months old." No. This was wrong.

His bottom lip started to quiver as he did his best to not cry. All his emotions just seemed to lead to crying. He felt angry, but he didn't want to scream, he wanted to cry and wail. Maybe they were telling the truth. That, somehow, made sense. Everything was so big, Washington had picked him up so easily. This was not happening.

"He always did act like a child, I'm not surprised this didn't happen sooner." Jefferson commented and that through Alex over the edge. There were tears running down his face and he was gasping for air as he cried. Quickly Washington picked him back up, bouncing him softly, glaring over at Thomas as he did his best to calm his right hand man.

"What are we going to do?" Madison asked, obviously lost on this whole subject.

"No one can know. Who knows what would happen. Maybe we should contact Eliza." Burr said, finally adding to the conversation.

"No, she's in London with her sister. Possibly won't return for months." Washington said softly as he rubbed circles into Alex's small back.

"I'll take him for tonight, but I can't every night. I'm going to need to trust the three of you to help out until we can figure this out. Okay? Can I trust you three?" his tone had gone a bit harsher and it made Alex babble out some words in concern.

The three men all chimed in their yesses, James and Thomas standing to leave. "Wait, not so quick gentlemen. I have work to attend to. I'll watch him for tonight, but that means I need someone to go pick up stuff for him. And as for you Burr, you can research this. I know you all have work to do, but considering one of your coworkers has been turned into a barely verbal infant, I'm postponing it for now. Now you can go."

There was a moment of silence and then Alex heard the door open and shut and then they were gone. That made him a little happier. The fact that this was happening was terrible in of itself, the fact that anyone was witnessing it made it ten times worse.

Washington moved to rest Hamilton in his lap, one hand resting on his brown locks, "How you get yourself into these situations, I'll never know, Hamilton. I'll never know."


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm apologizing for the length of this right now. I knew I needed to get something up but things have been hectic. Hopefully next week's chapter will be much longer. I really do mean it when I say sorry.

It'd been a good two hours and Alex was still swaddles in a white button down shirt and Washington's coat. Speaking of Washington, the man had found a desk drawer and done his best to make it a comfortable place to set Alexander down so he could continue his work. Done his best did not mean succeed.

He was pretty sure there was a pin digging into his shoulder blade and there was barely enough room for him to move at all, not that he felt he had that much mobility anyways. For the first hour he'd experimented with what words worked and which ones didn't. Trying to angrily protest being put in a drawer was one of the ones that did not work. However, he had managed to say, "hate," and, "you." This was his new favorite phrase, even if it did kind of sound like, "ate you."

Anyways, at the second hour mark Jefferson walked into the room, Madison following close behind, "Sir." the taller man said, addressing Washington. Neither of them spared him even a glance. He couldn't decide if that made him grateful or angry.

"Did you get everything I told you too?" Washington's said, the man himself out of view, but Alex would know that voice anywhere. "You did get the list I sent you right?"

"Of course, Sir. James," Jefferson said and the sickly man held up a large green bag. "Everything is right in there."

"Thank goodness. I have to run to the bathroom, I was to afraid to leave him on his own in here, do you two mind watching him? Maybe getting him in something more fitting?" the commander and chief said and then didn't wait for an answer before leaving, Alex knew this because he heard the door shut before just as Washington had finished talking.

And then there was an all too big face looming over his. Of course it had to be Jefferson. He would have settled for anyone else. Literally anyone, but instead he got the devil who wore purple. And Madison of course, but he was easy to forget.

"Your face is as big as my hand," was the first thing out of Jefferson's mouth and Alex scowled, his nose scrunching up as he mumbled out his new favorite phrase.

"'ate you!"

There was a snickering that turned into a giggle and then full blown laughter. James Madison was laughing at him. James, Has a cold twice a week, Madison.

"Oh my god, what if you're stuck like this? That'd be perfect. I'd never have to hear anything out of that mouth of yours again aside from 'ate you' of course. But that's probably the least intimidating thing I've ever heard, so it's okay." Jefferson said in that voice people use to talk to babies. Alex was ready to slap this man so hard he wouldn't be able to talk either

If there was anything Alexander hated most about this whole situation, it was how easily people had been able to pick up. First it'd been Washington, which wasn't too bad honestly, he was very fatherly. But now Jefferson was holding him and if Alex had to guess, he had never held a baby in his life. He was being held up by hands under his armpits and the grasp was just a bit too tight, so a small little squeak of pain escaped before he could stop himself.

Thomas' eyes went wide and he nearly dropped Alex onto Washington's desk. "I didn't hurt him! James you saw the whole thing." the tall man said quickly.

"Thomas, calm down. He's probably just trying to mess with you. The same way dogs whine when you do something they don't like. They're not actually hurt, just scaring you."

Now they were talking about him as if he wasn't there. It was bad enough that his arms hurt from the that clown had grabbed him, but his butt hurt from being dropped. "Hate you!" he nearly shouted this time.

"Okay, okay, look, we have to get you into some proper clothing." Jefferson said as he looked through the bag, pulling out—No.

They wanted to put him in a onesie. No. he refused. No. this was bad, horrible, terrible, but he would not be reduced to that—"No!" he shouted, and then shouted again when he saw the other item Jefferson had. Was that a diaper? This wasn't happening. He was not going to let this happen. Not by them, not by anyone. This was all some horrible dream.

"Maybe he needs a nap." he heard James mumble. There was a noise of agreement from Thomas and he was being picked up again, actually being cradled this time. It wasn't right and he wanted to say he was uncomfortable, but this was honestly one of the more comfortable positions he'd been in all day.

He still wasn't going to let them have satisfaction though, so he started squirming, ding his best to push away from Jefferson's chest but the man simply grabbed his hands and held him still. When he looked down at Alex he gave what could be assumed was his best impression of kindness, but it was pretty bad. Besides, Alex knew it was an act because as soon as Jefferson looked up and shared a look with Madison there was some light snickering.

Alexander kept trying to squirm, but gosh this was really warm, and he did kind of feel tired now that he was laying like this, when was the last time he'd slept before all this? He didn't have time to answer that question because he'd already passed out, curling up in Jefferson's arms—probably something he'd regret.


	3. Chapter 3

It was the crinkling that woke him up first. He could feel hands under his arms as he was moved to someone else's arms but he was too tired to actually register anything.

Once he blinked a few more times he realized the person who had been holding him while he slept was no longer holding him. No, Alex was now in the arms of Martha Washington.

Martha fucking Washington. The last time he'd seen her was at a dinner party at Washington's. Now, he was here, being cradled in her arms. This was so awkward, then again when was it not. He craned his neck weakly to figure out where he was, but was caught off guard by the crinkling coming once again. It was—no. They hadn't. No. his little mouth fell open in shock.

"Oh hush. Alexander we had to. I know it's embarrassing, but don't you think wetting yourself in front of all your coworkers would be more damaging to your pride?" somehow, Martha had figured out why he was upset. Was he that easy to read?

Alex frowned and started pushing against her arms, wanting to get away. He was tired of this. Tired of being treated like a baby—tired of being a baby. It was mortifying and he felt stupid and who had put him in a fucking diaper? It better not have been Jefferson. He'd have to strangle the man. He just wanted to be himself again. Luckily he was one step closer.

The tingling started in his feet and was quickly encompassing his body. Alex frowned, wrapping his little fingers around the ends of the sleeves of the onesie he'd been put in. He wasn't quite sure what was happening, but Martha seemed to be noticing because she was mumbling words of concern and her grip on him had tightened and he didn't remember much after that. The next thing he knew everything just felt too tight.

•

Washington frowned at the sight. He'd called Martha two afters after Hamilton had fallen asleep. He'd asked her to come watch him, possibly take him home for a bit. She had thought that was a bad idea, and now, he had to agree.

There, sitting on his office floor was a naked two year old. Martha was busying herself by finding the original shirt Hamilton had been wearing, and meanwhile Hamilton was looking about the office, small brows furrowed together.

"Wha' happened?"

The question pulled George from his thoughts. He had rushed to his office as soon as Martha had texted him. This wasn't what he'd been expecting—hey, at least now they knew Alex would be growing up quickly and not have to literally grow up again.

"Well, uh, you passed out and then turned into a two year old, or at least you look about two." George said, oh so eloquently. "Martha is grabbing you some clothing right now, son, no need to worry." he said in the most reassuring way he could.

"I'm two?" Alex asked.

It was slightly worrying George how little the boy was talking. He'd just gotten his ability to speak back and he didn't remotely seemed interested in shouting someone off.

"As I said before, you appear to be two." he confirmed with a nod.

Martha rushed in with the white button up Hamilton had worn to work and picked him straight up off the floor so he was standing. She slipped the shirt over his head and smiled. "That's better, now you're not a naked little bean." she said in the tone people use to talk to children.

George fully expected Alexander to say something rude or shove her away when she riffled the loose curls falling around his head, but he just blushed and giggled. Earlier he'd seemed fully comprehensible, but now he truly seemed like a two year old. This was worrying.

He frowned and pulled out his phone, quickly typing out a message that he sent to the small group he'd made in his contacts that contained everyone that already knew about this whole debacle.

[text]  
Hamilton emergency. My office now.


	4. Chapter 4

Aaron Burr wasn't completely sure what he'd been expecting but a small child that looked liked his former coworker that was sitting on Washington's desk, swinging his legs back and forth in an over-sized shirt certainly wasn't it. He quickly deduced this two year old was Hamilton when he didn't see the baby version of him anywhere in sight. Burr sighed heavily, which earned him a frown from his boss' wife who had just stepped back into the room, though she seemed to ignore him as she made her way over to--

"Alex, look what I got you! Yummy yogurt! Doesn't that sound good?" Martha asked the small boy, whom beamed back at her, reaching his hands out to take the cup of yogurt.

"I like yogurt. I don' have much of it, but, once ya' know I had some frozen yogurt. You ever had frozen yogurt, Martha? Wha' 'bout you, Aaron?" he asked, leaning onto his side to look over at his friend.

Burr blinked in surprise. Hamilton had a heavily accented voice, something that sounded like a mix of French and something he'd never heard before. The man ran a hand over his nearly shaved clean head. Somehow Alexander sounded and almost completely sounded like a child, aside from his grammatical skills. It just seemed to not fit. It didn't seem right for this thing that looked like a child to sound intelligent, but also sound as they he had the intention span of a toddler. Sadly, Burr was shaken from his pondering when Martha nudged him with her elbow, gesturing to Hamilton, whom was still waiting for an answer.

"Frozen yogurt? Yeah, I had it a few times, with a friend and once with Theo..." he smiled fondly at the memory.

"Neato!" Alex squeaked, going back to swinging his legs just as the one and only walking purple suit made his way into the room.

Thomas surveyed the scene for a few seconds then muttered something about not dealing with this shit and backed up out of the room. Of course he was tugged back into the room by a dejected looking James Madison. The shorter man was murmuring curses under his breath and glaring at no one in particular. It was quite a sight truly.

Alex looked over at the two and tilted his head, curly brown locks falling in front of his gaze. He was silent in the way he looked at the two, sneakily shrinking in on himself. He stopped when he felt a hand on his back, a large palm that felt rather warm. He knew the presence as Mr George Washington, though how he knew that he had no idea. Come to think of it, this all felt wrong. Where was his Mama? And his brother wasn't here, and this place just wasn't home--too clean, he thought to himself, well for the most part, he didn't realize he'd said it outloud and that it had halted whatever conversation these adults were having.

 

"Alex?" came Martha's voice, he looked up quickly, eyes wide. She sounded concerned.

 

"Yeah?" he asked softly, his cheeks reddening somewhat.

 

"What's too clean babe?" she asked, tilting her head as they all turned to stare at him.

 

Alexander nibbled his bottom lip, looked downwards and clicked his heels. He was considering saying something, but if they were kidnappers they wouldn't like it if he were on to them, so in an instant he knew his plan, he'd use the one skill his brother always told him was his best! he dropped from the desk and in the movement of confusion he made it past the group of mysterious people. He was darting out the door when he saw an open door and it was close so he ran there, because what could be a better option than to run into a room you have no idea of what's on the other side.

 

When he was through the door he certainly didn't expect the sudden appearance of stairs and with that he was tumbling downwards, one bruise after another. He finally slowed to a stop at one of the landings, tears streaming his face as he laid on the ground in just utter pain, a few scrapes and cuts from the not very kind stairs, not very kind at all he thought. He wanted to lay there till Mama showed up but he heard voices, familiar voices, and his head hurt so much, he curled into a ball, hoping to make the world go away and surprisingly it did; his world faded to black.

 

* * *

 

 

To say John Laurens ever expected to be sitting in the Washington household as Eliza was being phoned and he stared at his best friend, but in the body of a two year old was insane. No, it was outside his realm of possibility. He was considering other situations he could be in that were weirder--nothing--when he heard rustling from the bed where Alexander Hamilton lay. He sat up alert, pushing his hair out of his face, tired from his rush over to this house.

 

"Alex? Hey, bud, you're okay." he cooed in the same way he'd talk to any other child because that's what he'd been told Alex was, but the response was anything but.

 

"Fuck off, John," came a grumbled soft voice of a two year old with a small accent that Laurens knew to be his friend's native accent. He was shocked to say the least and quickly became ten times more confused.

 

"Alex?" he asked, hoping his confusion would clear away soon.

 

The little boy sat up, rubbing at his eyes, "Yeah, what? I'm sore, let me sleep." Alex said, but then his breath caught in a weird way and then with a shrill scream he shouted.

 

"IT WASN'T A DREAM?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The accent Alex speaks with is Haitian and a hint of a French, considering his mother was originally from France.
> 
> Please feel free to talk to me any time! You can always find me on tumblr at @mm-illtryagin

**Author's Note:**

> I'm honestly so sorry about this, but if you guys actually do like it, then I'll totally continue, you just need to let me know.


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